Lips of an Angel
by 0'EmeraldEyes'0
Summary: Shawn calls Tony after three years apart to reveal that he still loves him. But Tony's engaged now will he turn Shawn away, or will he accept the feelings he's never been able to hide?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, nope, that's Disney. And I don't own the song that I based this fic after, nope, that's Hinder. **

_Author's Note: Yay, another spontaneous story. I was driving today, and this song came on, and I was like "God, that's Spot and Race ..." so I went home and spent a few hours typing this up. Something about how Race would call his fiance his "girl" combined with the fact that I've always been infatuated with Spot's lips (I'm serious, look at them, they're perfect) made those two the perfect couple for this story. I could easily see Spot calling Race late at night and Race confessing how he sometimes wishes the person he were with was Spot. I love it. So I hope you will love it just as much. Also, I am undecided as of yet if this should be just left as a one-shot, or if I should add a few chapters and show what happens on their night out and what happens after. I dunno, so your opinions on that would also be appreciated. Damn, this is a long author's note, lol, so I will go away now. I hope you like it._

_Well, my girl's in the next room,  
Sometimes I wish she was you.  
I guess we never really moved on.  
It's really good to hear your voice saying my name,  
It sounds so sweet.  
Coming from the lips of an angel,  
Hearing those words, it makes me weak.  
And I never wanna say goodbye,  
But, boy, you make it hard to be faithful,  
With the lips of an angel._

_-"Lips of an Angel" by Hinder_

A clap of thunder sounded outside, shaking the leaves from the trees. There hadn't been a storm like this in months. Tomorrow morning Main Street would be flooded, branches of several old trees would be in front lawns, and the power would probably be out in half the town. Tony pulled back the living room curtains and glanced into the night. The rain blurred his vision in sheets, and the fall sky was a nasty shade of green-gray. Letting out a long sigh he let the lace curtains falls back into place and glanced toward the bedroom. Through the open door he could hear light, even breathing. Susan. She was always so peaceful when she slept.

Susan and Tony had been together for two and a half years. They met Susan's senior year of college. She was going to be an editor for a major fashion magazine in the city. Tony was a freelance photographer with no college education who took pictures for the same magazine. He was just getting over a serious relationship, and she had never been in a serious relationship. He taught her how to laugh; how to take her work less seriously. She taught him how to enjoy his job, and to take pride in his work. Their relationship was easy, no work at all for either of them. Now they had been together thirty months to the day and were going to get married in the spring.

They were happy together, known to their friends as the single entity "Susan-and-Tony." It was a peaceful life, a simple life. Something commonplace and uninteresting, very unlike the life that Tony had lived once upon a time…

Tony stood and paced the room a few times. He could never sleep during storms; it had been that way since he'd been a boy in the orphanage. The only difference was, in the orphanage he'd had someone to sit up with him. Now, in his own home, Susan could sleep just fine, and Tony sat by the window alone, listening to the rain slap the rooftop and cringing at each clap of thunder.

The phone rang a minute later and startled Tony. He ran to it and picked it up quickly before it could wake his fiancé. "Hello?" he whispered, glancing at the clock. 2:53 a.m.

"_Tony?_"

Tony felt something sucking at the inside of his chest, as if all the oxygen had been vaccumed from his lungs in less than a second, and swore it was his heart stopping mid-beat. Thirty, forty, fifty seconds passed before Tony finally coughed and asked, "Who is this?"

"_It's … I figured you'd be up_."

Tony almost smiled; he knew the boy on the other line didn't need to tell him who it was. He would recognize that voice anywhere, anytime.

"Why are you calling so late, Shawn? Why are you calling ... at all? Is something wrong?"

"_I can't ever remember a storm this bad. I didn't know if you had anybody to talk to on nights like this._"

Tony glanced towards the bedroom again. "Hold on a sec," he said quickly, and hurried over to softly close the door. "Hey," he said, coming back to the phone.

"_Hey,_" Shawn said.

There was more silence, two boys just listening to each other breathe over the line. A sound they had grown accustomed to years ago and had never been able to let go of.

"How've you been?"

"_Not bad I guess._"

"That's good, that's good …" Tony mused. He glanced through the curtains again, as if Shawn might be just outside the window. "It sure has been a while."

"_Yeah,_" Shawn said quietly. "_You still workin' for that newspaper or whatever?_"

Tony chuckled, "Yeah. It's a magazine, Shawn, and yeah I still photograph for them."

Tony could almost see Shawn laughing on the other end. "_God that's fruity._"

A laugh sounded off the empty beige walls, and with a shock, Tony realized that it was his own. He composed himself quickly and nodded to no one, "What about you? Are you still doing construction for that asshole up in Queens?"

Someone sighed a heavy sigh over the line. "_Yeah, I'll be doin' it till the day I die, just like my old man."_

Tony shook his head, "You know, if you'd just go to college or something, take some classes, you could get a better job. Make a good living."

Shawn nodded, "_What the hell do I need a 'good living' for? It's just me an' the fuckin' dog."_

Again Tony laughed, "You still have Little Shit?" he asked in disbelief.

This time Shawn laughed too, "_Yeah, that stupid thing'll never die._"

Tony shook his head, "Oh man, I miss that dog," he said, remembering the shitzu he and Shawn had owned back when … well, a long time ago. "Yeah …"

Shawn didn't speak for a moment, and then said in a crippling monotone, "_I miss _you, _Tony."_

Tony coughed, trying to hide his surprise. "I … Shawn …"

Shawn sighed. "_It's okay … you don't gotta say anything."_

Tony closed his eyes, blocking out his surroundings: the boring white walls, the crisp lace curtains, the starched brown carpet. "I know we haven't talked in a long time, Shawn, but, I'm engaged now …"

There was silence on the line, not even breathing. "_Oh,"_ Shawn said calmly. "_Wow, well, you didn't waste any time, did you? It's only been … what … two years?"_

Tony cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Nearly three."

"_Right … Sorry then. Guess I was wrong about before, thinking you didn't have anyone to, ya know, sit up with you on nights like tonight. I'll go-"_

"No!" Tony said, startling himself with his directness. "I mean, well, Susan's asleep. She doesn't stay up with me, I mean."

Shawn chuckled. "_Oh,_" he said softly, as if he found this funny. Then he frowned apologetically, "_Sorry ... Susan, huh?_"

Tony coughed again, and Shawn recognized his ex-lover's nervous habit.

"_You okay, Tony?"_

Tony let Shawn's words sink into him and shook his head. "Ya know," he said, "I really thought I was. Until you called."

"_I'm sorry," _Shawn repeated.

There was more silence between them, and more of Tony's fake coughing.

Shawn tried to begin another goodbye: after making their conversation significantly awkward, he figured he was obligated to begin the awkward goodbye process as well.

"_Look, I-"_

"No, just hold on a minute, okay," Tony said, sucking in as much air as he could and then letting it all out in one long, painful sentence. "If you want the truth Shawn it's that I haven't gone a single night without thinking about you since you left."

Shawn just sat, stunned, miles away, breathing into the phone steadily.

"Shawn?"

"_I'm here._"

Tony exhaled slowly. "It was only a few months ago I broke the habit of sitting by the phone till midnight each night, hoping you'd call. I even picked it up myself a few times, dialed up till the last digit of your number … but I never had the balls to hit that last digit, hear it ring, hear you on the other end …"

"_I shouldn't 'a called."_

Tony nearly let out a yell of frustration. Here he was, after nearly three years of waiting for this phone conversation, pouring out confessions like the sap he was, and all Shawn could say was "I shouldn't have called"?

"Then why the hell did you? Huh?" Tony hissed.

"_I told you … I miss you."_

Tony bit his lip hard to stop the harsh words he knew were inside him. "Look, Shawn …" He had to tell him that it wouldn't work, that he was engaged now, that too much time had passed. But what Shawn said next shattered into a million pieces the emotional walls Tony had spent three careful years constructing.

"_I'm still in love with you, Tony."_

Tony felt his stomach drop and a dry sob escaped his lips. "God, Shawn …"

Shawn didn't say a word.

"My girl is over in the next room, sleeping like a fucking angel. She doesn't know about any of this. I never told her about you; she doesn't know; she's so innocent. She doesn't know that half the time we're together I wish she was you …"

"_Yeah?"_

"Fuck, is that all you can say? Bastard …"

Shawn smiled, remembering the way extreme emotions tended to bring out Tony's sailor mouth, despite his usual casual and composed demeanor.

"_No," _Shawn whispered, _"I can say that I'm sorry."_

"You've got nothin' to be sorry for," Tony shook his head sadly, "I'm glad you called. It's been too long that we haven't –"

"_No," _Shawn said, "_For leaving. I'm sorry for leaving."_

Tony swallowed hard. "We never moved on, I guess." What else was there to say?

Shawn chuckled through the tears forming. "_Yeah, well I never expected _you_ to get over _me_ - you're such a girl after all …"_

Tony frowned, "Hey …"

"_Ya know what I miss most?" _Shawn said suddenly. When Tony didn't respond, he continued. "_Your hands."_

Tony was about to protest – about to tell Shawn that they shouldn't be saying these things to each other. This was all wrong. But Shawn continued right over him.

"_You used to love holding hands. I remember that. I'd never tell you how much I loved it too. 'Cause when you were holding my hand, damn, there wasn't a thing in the world I couldn't do, ya know?"_

Tony nodded. He did know. He remembered well the feeling of Shawn's slim fingers entwined with his own. The way that gesture alone seemed to make them both invincible to the rest of the world. They were holding on to each other, a part of each other, and that's all that mattered.

"I miss your lips," Tony admitted shyly, not resisting anymore, and feeling the blush creep into his pale cheeks. He didn't elaborate, just sat remembering the way they used to lie in bed for hours. It didn't matter the time of day – morning before work, afternoon before dinner, or in the middle of the night when neither could sleep. And Shawn would kiss Tony's fingertips and whisper to him. Tony couldn't remember Shawn's voice saying anything, but he could remember reading those lips – following their pattern with his eyes, memorizing every little phrase. They were the lips of an angel. Shawn had always been his angel.

They sat lost in memories for a few minutes more, until Race coughed, and Spot knew their moment of sincerity with one another was over. "Shawn, I should probably go … An hour more and Susan will be getting up for work."

Shawn sighed, "_You don't think we could … ya know, get together sometime do you? Just, for old time's sake."_

Tony laughed ironically, "Why don't you stop by the wedding this spring?"

Shawn frowned, _"Ya don't gotta be like that …"_

Tony put back on a straight face, "I know," he said, "I'm sorry." But, the truth was that he was floored by Shawn's genuineness in asking to see him. It wasn't like the hardcore Brooklynite to be asking things like that. "Actually," he said slowly, "I would like that. A lot."

Shawn smiled. "_Good," _he said, "_Me too. What time do you get off work tomorrow?"_

"Six," Tony answered, "How about you?"

"_Not 'till eight."_

"Well, I remember where you work. I'll swing by and pick you up when you're done then…" It was odd, making plans like this after so many years, but somehow very natural.

Shawn laughed, "_Fine, but you gotta take me back to my apartment still. I'm gonna smell like shit after work. I'll shower and change and you can play with the dog."_

Tony smiled. "Okay, eight o'clock then."

"_Eight o'clock," _Shawn repeated.

"I shouldn't be doing this, you know," Tony said wearily.

Shawn laughed, "_You're just goin' to have a couple beers with an old friend, right? I'm sure the little wife would be fine with that."_

Tony nodded, knowing as well as Shawn did that while their meeting would certainly involve beers, it would involve nothing else his "little wife" would approve of. "Okay," he said softly.

"_Okay, see you tomorrow?"_

"See you tomorrow."

"_Tony?"_

"Yeah?"

"_You promise you'll come?"_

Tony smiled, "I promise I'll come."

There was a moment of silence before both boys hung up at the same time. Race set the phone down gently and stood up, stretching his back. He pulled back the lace curtains and found with a smile that the storm had blown over. The palest of pink lights was shining from the east, and the storm's destruction looked peaceful beneath its glow. Just like all those nights at the orphanage, Tony was comforted by Shawn's voice, and he lay down to rest without a worry. He got a total of ninety minutes of sleep that evening, and each and every one was filled with thoughts of the full, soft lips that would be caressing his skin that night. The lips of his angel.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own newsies. I guess you could say I own the random angry boy in bed, in this chapter, but that doesn't make me feel special at all ...**

_Author's Note: Not too many reviews for this, which was a little depressing. But I decided that I love this story too much to let it go, so thank you to Rustie and Rubba-Ducky for the kind words, and you get your wish lol. Also, you have guessed correctly. This chapter is indeed a flashback. I felt the need to show adorable little Tony and Shawn, plus I think it adds to their relationship, ya know, if we take a look at everything that happened before. I think this is how I'm going to do this story, it won't be chronological, but that's okay, cause you're smart and you can follow what's going on anyhow. It's also only gonna be five chapters. I have everything but the last chapter written - you really get a lot done when you never sleep lol - I just gotta get them cleaned up a little bit. So enjoy!_

A clap of thunder sounded outside, shaking the leaves from the trees. A ten year old Tony sat up in bed, his knees curled into his chest, his blanket pulled up to his chin. The storm outside raged mercilessly, terrifying the young boy. It was near midnight – much later that he knew he should have been staying up on a school night, but he couldn't help it. Until the thunder and lightning ebbed, he would not be able to get so much as a wink of sleep. Silently, Tony pulled out a copy of "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" and a tiny, battery-powered reading light. He tried to concentrate on the boy's wonderful journeys, but kept getting distracted by the sharp flash of a lightning bolt or the eerie creaking of a window pane against the wind.

Suddenly, the door to the bunk room opened just a crack and a slit of light escaped, silhouetting a dark figure in the doorframe. Tony gasped and pulled the blanket clear up over his head, shivering.

"Race?" a boy hissed into the blackness.

"Spot!" Tony whispered back, pulling off the blankets and calling to his best friend, thoroughly relieved.

Shawn shut the door behind him and carefully climbed up the flimsy ladder to Tony's top bunk. "Hey Race," he said, using the bizarre nicknames the two had invented for one another.

"Hey Spot. I was wonderin' if you was comin'." In later years only Spot would retain this accent, but at ten, both still clung to the New Yorken street talk of their childhoods.

"Ya didn't think I'd leave ya here by yaself, didja? Dat storm's pretty bad."

Tony nodded, wide-eyed, as if he knew only too well how bad the storm really was. More rain on the rooftop, and Tony pulled the blanket to his chin again, coughing lightly.

Shawn sat cross-legged on the other end of the bed. He picked up the book and thumbed through a few pages. "What's dis?"

"Tom Sawyah," Tony said weakly.

Shawn nodded, "Yeah? What makes him so special he gets his own book, huh?"

Tony shrugged, and Shawn noticed the way he was still shaking ever so slightly.

"Well why doncha tell me about him?" Shawn said hurriedly, trying to distract Tony from the threatening noises outside the window. He'd tried to tell the nuns when they'd arrived at the orphanage not to put Tony's bed by the window because he got scared easy. But they hadn't listened; they didn't ever listen.

So Tony took a deep breath in and began telling the story of all the adventures Tow Sawyer went on. Shawn snorted derisively, "Dat ain't nothin'. We used tah do funnah stuff when we was kids, huh? Stealin' dose shoes from dat mean guy down in da Bronx, or gettin' caught with dat pocket knife we took from my old man…"

Tony nodded, smiling a little.

The two boys had grown up on the same miserable block in the same miserable town. Everyone was poor there. When Tony was six his father died in an automobile accident, and his mom committed suicide a few weeks later. But both his parents were too poor for anyone to take real notice of their absence from the world. So Tony had packed his few belongings into a little red backpack and gone to live with Shawn, whose only parent was an alcoholic construction worker father. Shawn was a year older, and Tony had always looked up to him. Shawn was the rough-and-tumble type you never dared to mess with, and Tony was the quiet, demure type who no one messed with just because they knew Shawn would rough them up if they ever tried. It wasn't until his late teens that Tony would develop his sense of himself, and with it, his sense of humor. But he would always let his guard down around Shawn, would always look up to him, and in return, would always be looked after.

It wasn't just the other kids on the block that Shawn had to guard Tony against, but his very own father. The old man would come home on weekends hardly able to hold himself upright. He would stumble into the house and bang on walls until he found where the two boys were hiding. If he wasn't in an angry mood he would simply yell a stream of profanities at them and tell them to get to bed. But if he _was_ in an angry mood, Shawn would have to dart out from his hiding place, letting go of Tony's hand – but always promising to come back – to provoke his father so that Mr. Conlon wouldn't go after Tony. He would throw things to get the old man's attention and Mr. Conlon would chase his son around the house, screaming and throwing things right back. Sometimes, this was enough - the chase alone would wear him out, and he would pass out on the couch or the kitchen floor. Other times Shawn wasn't so lucky, and Mr. Conlon would catch him and deal blow after blow until his knuckles were sore, and only then he was content to go to bed.

When the yelling stopped, Tony knew it was safe to come out. He would crawl out from under the ottoman on hands and knees and go find his dearest friend heaped in a corner somewhere. Hearing Tony's quiet footsteps, Shawn would hastily wipe away the tears he never let the other boy see. Tony would lie Shawn down on the living room floor and hurry to the kitchen to find a step stool, push it to the sink, step up, and wet a cool rag. Then he'd sit next to Shawn and cool the boy's hot, splotchy face, trying not to hear Shawn's ragged, asthmatic breathing. Neither one of them would ever talk during these times, as a rule. As an adult looking back, Tony didn't know if the silence was a precaution against waking up Mr. Conlon, or if Shawn was simply too embarrassed by his beating to speak - his father was the only one who could defeat Shawn in this way.

But in that silence a pact was born. And while both boys understood exactly what it entailed, neither would bring it up using words. As children, they would acknowledge it in whispers on a dirty wooden floor, and as young adults they would acknowledge it in kisses in the back of a run down station wagon. The pact was this: Shawn would never, ever let anything hurt Tony. And in return, Tony would give Shawn all of his appreciation and affection; all the love he had inside of him would forever be Shawn's.

A year later, social services stopped by the Conlon home after receiving phone calls from neighbors that children's screams could be heard coming from that house late at night. They found the two young boys left unattended. Shawn was on that same step stool, pouring macaroni into a pot of boiling water, and Tony was setting out chipped wooden bowls and a carton of spoilt milk.

Mr. Conlon was taken into police custody, and Shawn and Tony were sent to the orphanage where they spent the rest of their childhoods...

"Dat was a real pretty knife," Tony nodded seriously.

Shawn chuckled, "I know. I tried to take it with when we came here, but da nuns said kids shouldn't be playin' with knives. Dey nevah let us have no fun."

Just then a grumble came from the bunk below them. "Will you two shut up? It's past midnight! Jesus, I'ma go get Sister Josephine…"

Tony's eyebrows became creased in worry, but Shawn simply handed the book back to his friend and leaned over the railing to glare upside-down at the boy below them.

"If you don't shut ya pie hole, I'm gonna come down dere and shut it for ya, got dat?"

Tony stayed silent above then, but the boy grumbled some more and shot a nasty look at Shawn.

"Ya think I'm joshin'?" Shawn asked incredulously, "You don't leave us alone you'll be sorry you was born. An' not Sistah Josephine or nobody else gonna be able tah save ya from da pain I'll make ya in."

Something about Shawn's piercing blue gaze and the danger found there made the boy frown grudgingly and roll over under his covers.

Shawn pulled himself back up to face Tony, who was self-consciously playing with his hands in his blankets. "So-" Shawn continued, but he was cut short by a brilliant flash of lighting, followed seconds later by an enormous clap of thunder that shook the whole building. Tony tensed and a tiny whimper escaped his trembling lips. Quickly Shawn maneuvered his way to the other end of the bed where Tony scooted over to give him room and they sat side by side under the blankets.

Shawn put his arms around Tony's shoulders and Tony buried his face against Shawn's arm. Silently Shawn kissed the top of Tony's head. It was something they'd been doing since they'd been kids – hugging, kissing each other on the cheek or top of the head, and always holding hands wherever they went. It wasn't until they came to the orphanage that the nuns made them stop all of that. "It's sinful," she told them, but didn't say why when they had walked into the main hall with their luggage, hands clasped at their sides. Now it was only in the dark or when they were alone that they were allowed to touch each other anymore. And even then occasionally one of the other boys would squeal on them ("Shawn was sleeping in Tony's bunk again!") and Shawn would get his knuckles rapped for the offense. A laughable punishment after the beatings of his earlier childhood.

So Shawn kept his arms wrapped firmly around Tony's small form, whispering in his ear that the morning would be there in just a few short hours, and the sun would chase the storm away. Tony nodded gratefully and snuggled closer to Shawn's warm body.

For the most part, the other boys in the orphanage left them to themselves. Shawn terrified them and Tony was too puny to even bother with. But this didn't bother Shawn and Tony one bit. They had each other. And for tonight, as well as all the other tonights for the next ten years, this was all that mattered.

"Shhh," Shawn soothed. "You're fine. Tell me more about Tom Sawyah, huh?"

Like always, Tony let Shawn's words soothe him until he was exhausted enough to let his eyelids droop closed. And Shawn, too tired by now to move to his own bed, settled in under the covers beside Tony. He curled his body around Tony's from behind and nestled his face in Tony's hair. A little sigh escaped Tony's parted lips and Shawn smiled, holding the small boy close to him. They would be, now and forever, each other's other half. Shawn sighed as well, unable to let himself rest until he was sure Tony was sleeping soundly enough to not be woken again. This finally occurred just as the gray light of dawn was creeping out over the grounds. It would be another hour before the nuns came to wake them for morning mass and Shawn decided, as he always did, that getting his knuckles rapped was certainly a fair trade for getting to watch Tony sleep so peacefully.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The only place I own these two incredible boys is in my dreams.**

_Author's Note: Longest chapter I've ever written. But oh well, I couldn't help it - they were too cute to be restrained into a short chapter. My wonderful girlfriend Ashley and I spent nearly an hour fighting about whether or not I should have had Tony and Shawn sleep together. I think I made the right decision - but you tell me. Anyhow, a bit of a forewarning, however, this is the last cute chapter. Chapters four and five I plan to make horribly, sadistically depressing. It's because I love torturing newsboys, it's my hobby. Maybe I'm just a bitter person, but anyhow, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I really enjoyed writing it - and I don't care what Ashley says, I think our boys deserved one night of happiness before Tony went off and married the wrong person, lol._

Tony sat in the parking lot watching everyone but Shawn file out of the run down building they were currently working at. He had taken off work early and spent nearly four hours getting ready for their meeting. He'd showered twice and put on almost six difference outfits. He didn't originally think it would have been this hard – but after Shawn's comment about showering and changing, he decided he'd better put some extra effort into his appearance. Not that he'd changed any since the last time he and Shawn had been together. He was still short – unusually short; he still had a mass of dark brown hair that never wanted to cooperate; and his eyes were still the deep intuitive brown they'd always been. So after hours searching through his closet, Tony had decided on a dark green button-up shirt and his nicest pair of jeans. Now he kept checking his appearance in the rearview mirror while Shawn's coworkers trudged past, shooting him curious looks.

"Ya really are a girl …" a voice said from startlingly close to Tony. Quickly he threw his hands down from where they had been trying to smooth his hair into place. Shawn was leaning in the passenger window with a wicked grin.

"Damn Shawn, you scared me," Tony mumbled, hitting the unlock button before Shawn could hop in through the window as he was prone to doing.

"Sorry," Shawn chuckled, "But really – I don't need the rest a the boys thinkin' I'm goin' out with a pansy tahnight. Try an' be a little more discreet with ya girly ways, huh?"

Tony frowned. "Just get in," he grumbled. Shawn threw his bag into the backseat and opened the door for himself, plopping down beside Tony. Tony, meanwhile, was trying to inconspicuously appraise his former lover. The boy was still deceivingly thin, and with the same fair hair – all strewn with sawdust and other debris at the moment. But the hair was longer, too, and he had a heavy shadow along his jaw line which Tony decided he didn't altogether dislike. His eyes were just as blue as they'd always been, but they looked tired. And those lips, well, they hadn't changed at all. Tony had had to hold himself back from leaning over to give Shawn a welcoming kiss as they had done so often all those years ago.

Shawn directed Tony to his apartment and they pulled up next to Shawn's rusty old pick-up with "Union Yes!" bumper sticker. Shawn hopped out and opened the door for Tony. The apartment smelled like it hadn't had a good cleaning in several months. A tiny dog bounded forward then and immediately bypassed Shawn for Tony. The dog seemed to have not even noticed Tony's absence. He jumped up on his hind legs to lick Tony's face as if he'd merely been on an extended trip to the grocery store. Shawn frowned a little, trying not to let Tony see how the familiarity of this scene was affecting him. He plopped down into a lumpy armchair in the living room, putting his feet up on the table to unlace his heavy work boots.

"Sorry it ain't clean," Shawn apologized half-heartedly, "When ya get up at the fuckin' crack a dawn an' don't get home till eight, ya don't got much time tah clean. An' Little Shit don't mind anyhow," he added, smiling at the dog who was still trying to attack Tony with his tongue.

Tony shrugged, "It's fine, don't apologize."

Shawn nodded, taking the comment at face value and began pointing vaguely to various directions of the apartment. "Kitchen's in there. Bathroom's that way. Just hollah if ya need anythin'. I shouldn't be more'n fifteen, twenty minutes tops."

Tony nodded and settled in beside the dog. Shawn shrugged, still trying to get the image of Tony smiling in his doorway out of his head. He'd had such confidence going into this thing. But that had all drained away just in the last few minutes, as all he had really lost was brought back fresh in his mind, leaving only the dregs of anxiety. He was well aware that this might be the last time he'd ever seen Tony if the boy was indeed getting married. So as he stepped out of the shower, Shawn resolved to make the best of the evening. It might be the last few hours of happiness left to him in this lifetime …

Tony was currently wringing his hands in the living room. He'd tried the TV, but it was broke. He'd picked a newspaper off the floor to read, but it was a month old. So this was how Shawn lived now …

He'd told Susan when he'd left that he was going to see an old childhood friend. He had failed to inform her, however, that he might very well be gone all night. When it came to Susan, Tony treated her like a porcelain doll – anything at all might break her into a million little pieces. He had always been good to her, and in some part of his heart, he loved her. It always amazed Tony, however, that Susan did not criticize him for only giving her a small part of his heart. But then again, perhaps she didn't even know. Tony had never given her any more than that tiny bit - never unleashing on her the full passion of what his love could be, as he had done on Shawn.

Just then Shawn emerged from the bedroom, and all the feelings Tony had ever had for him seemed to cement themselves at the base of his stomach at exactly the same moment. How was it that Tony had spent _six hours_ getting ready and still couldn't look half as good as Shawn did after twenty minutes? The boy's hair was no longer covered in dust but swept back lazily out of his eyes. Shawn had shaved the rubble away – disappointing Tony a little – revealing baby smooth skin which was a little tanner now than he'd remembered it. Though that could easily have been from so much time working outside. His eyes shot straight through Tony's heart. But it wasn't until Shawn spoke that Tony's own eyes were drawn directly to his ex-lover's lips. "Are we goin', or what?" Shawn demanded, one hand on his hip.

It was at this moment, in this scene, that things slid back into place for Tony. He looked at Shawn there, and it was just as if they had never been apart. Tony smiled and let the feeling of home wash over him.

He felt his old self flow through his veins, heightening every sense. "That depends," he grinned, "where are you taking me?"

Shawn chuckled as he draped a coat over his tight-fitting black teeshirt. "C'mon, you'll see."

Tony nodded obediently and followed Shawn, this time to the other boy's truck. Shawn turned up a classic rock station and rolled the windows down. Tony let the breeze hit his face and rested his head back. It was the most at ease he'd felt in a long while. An odd sensation, since he thought his meeting with Shawn would be awkward and nerve-wrecking.

"You know I was wondering why all your coworkers were staring at me – you told them you were going out with me?"

Shawn shrugged with the slightest hint of a grin. "They were all jealous cause I told them I was goin' out with the best lookin' man in New York."

Tony blushed and forced his gaze out the window. Shawn smiled – little things like this had always gotten to Tony, he remembered.

Minutes later they pulled up in the parking lot of a bar Tony couldn't have erased from memory if he'd tried. He and Shawn used to hang out at this bar all the time in their younger days. They had actually shared their first kiss here. "Shawn …" Tony tutted disapprovingly.

Shawn shrugged, "Just 'cause you got too good tah come down here doesn't mean I did."

Tony frowned a little and followed inside. They sat down at a table towards the back. A young waitress in a tight-fitting apron came over, smiling a little too familiarly at Shawn, and took their drink order. Tony ordered a glass of Merlot, and Shawn laughed. "Well that's new … Uh, the usual for me, Jack on the rocks, thanks," he continued when the waitress turned to him.

Shawn pushed his seat back and lit a cigarette carefully. "So …" he said, blowing a plume of smoke directly into Tony's face.

Tony smiled despite himself – it was such a _Shawn_ thing to do. Then he mocked, "So …"

Shawn shrugged as if he didn't recognize the way Tony read him like a book. "So how's the job goin', I guess. I'da thought you'd a' moved up in the world by now. Not still workin' fah da same fruity fashion magazine."

Tony sighed, "Well, you know," he said, as if Shawn _should_ know, "They were the first magazine to take me straight out of high school. They've been good to me since then, and I get to work with … " He stopped himself and then concluded quickly, "Well, they've been good to me."

"Ah," Shawn said wickedly, "So Susan works dere too, huh?"

Tony nodded, "Mhm," he said. "That's where we met."

"And is she the one who's got you drinkin' fine wine, Tony?" Shawn taunted as the waitress set down their drinks.

"No," Tony denied, though he knew it was true. He used to be able to down whiskey like Shawn. But perhaps all the alcohol he had imbibed in the months following Shawn's leaving had turned him off the stuff …

Shawn took a long drink from his glass and grinned, "Tell me about her."

Tony's face gave away his blatant shock, as well as disapproval. Shawn laughed out loud. "What? I ain't allowed tah ask about my replacement?"

Tony frowned. He wanted very badly to point out that _Shawn_ had been the one to leave _him_, not the other way around, but he held his tongue. Gingerly he sipped his wine and said, "She's nice – a good girl, ya know?"

Shawn nodded, but he didn't know. He'd never had a "good" girl – never had anyone at all good besides Tony.

When Shawn didn't speak, Tony continued. "I don't know, she's, well, she's responsible, hard-working … _honest_," he pointed out rather harshly. But Shawn knew that the comment had been directed more at Tony himself than at Shawn. Tony always seemed to blame himself for everything.

And so Shawn nodded again, saying nothing. He didn't know what he wanted to know exactly, but whatever it was, Tony wasn't saying it.

Tony raised his eyebrows suspiciously. "What do you want to hear, Shawn? That she loves me? Because she does."

"No," Shawn said quickly and directly and even he didn't know what he was answering to. The bit about that not being what he wanted to hear, or the bit about Susan loving Tony. After all, no one could love Tony like Shawn did …

"What then?" Tony sighed, "That I don't love her?"

The boys made eye contact for a moment, both surprised to hear the words come out of Tony's mouth.

"Maybe," Shawn said moodily and downed the rest of his drink. The ice clinking against the glass made Tony tense.

"Ya know what," he said, flagging down the waitress, "I'm sorry – can I get what he's drinking?" The waitress seemed to smile to herself and then winked at Shawn before leaving.

Tony looked from Shawn to the waitress's retreating back. "What was that?" he asked.

Shawn shrugged, but his grin was sinfully guilty.

"Shawn!" Tony whined irritably.

"So maybe I'm good friends with good ole Sandra there, and maybe I told her you was comin' here with me tahnight …"

"Jesus," Tony muttered, "Didja tell everyone you know you were taking me out?"

The waitress dropped off Tony's drink, as well as a second for Shawn, smiled and said "Enjoy."

Spot grinned, "Of course – an' I mighta also mentioned to Sandra that given the right amount 'a alcohol I'd be gettin' lucky tahnight …"

Tony choked on the whiskey he'd been drinking, "You what!"

Shawn smiled happily. "Me an' Sandra go way back," he explained. "She gets a kick outta hearin' about my sex life …"

Tony rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he completely ruling out the idea of … being with Shawn that night, but he would have appreciated it if Shawn hadn't blabbered it to everyone he knew.

Shawn just smiled tauntingly. "Lighten up, Tony – geez, you used tah laugh at shit like that."

Tony tried a weak smile – he knew it was true. Shawn used to have this friend – Jack – they worked for the same guy, who was openly gay and highly promiscuous. The three of them used to spend hours laughing at Jack's latest sexual "adventures".

"Well," Tony countered, "Consider me just as interested as Sandra then. Tell _me_ about your sex life."

_This _Shawn had not been expecting. "Well," he tried to choose his words carefully, "There've been a couple guys I've … ya know, but nothin' serious." Shawn laughed inwardly at himself. Nothing serious? The year he and Tony had split, Shawn had gone through men like socks. A new bar every night, and every night someone new to go home with. Always trying to wake up with the same feeling as he'd used to get waking up next to Tony. But it never came. Shawn couldn't count all the apartments and hotel rooms he'd seen in the last few years – from the ritziest Manhattan penthouse to the shabbiest shacks of Queens …

Tony nodded, "A few guys?" and Shawn had the distinct feeling that Tony knew exactly how he had been living lately. And suddenly it didn't matter how many nameless strangers Shawn had gone to bed with – it was only Tony's hurt brown eyes that could make him feel like such a _slut_.

Yet still he lied. "Yeah," he retorted, "a couple guys." His tone was daring Tony to disagree.

"But nothing serious?"

"Nothin' serious."

Tony decided to drop it - it wasn't worth it. This night, at least, Shawn was his. And considering two days ago he hadn't thought he'd get another night with Shawn at all, he needed to be grateful. So Tony contented himself with draining the contents of his drink in a single gulp. Sandra immediately set down another – God, if nothing else, she was certainly timely. Tony watched the concerned, apologetic look on Shawn's face and found that for the first time, he couldn't read it.

_God_, Tony thought as he began on his newly replenished beverage, _how did it come to this?_ "I need a smoke," he told Shawn desperately. "Do you mind bumming me?"

Shawn smiled a little, just grateful the subject of his sex life was put aside for now. "I didn't think the old lady'd let ya smoke?" he said as he slid a pack of Marlboros and a plastic lighter across the table.

Tony rolled his eyes, "Shawn, I ain't had a smoke in two years." Then he laughed ironically and looked at the cigarette in his hand. "You really bring out the worst in me."

Shawn knew it was supposed to be funny, but he couldn't bring himself to smile. Instead his eyes became downcast and he gazed into his drink.

Tony realized he might have been a bit harsh and nudged Shawn under the table with his foot. "Hey," he said, "Drink up." Then he downed the rest of his second glass of whiskey and gazed at Shawn with a look Shawn hadn't seen in years. "This is gonna be a long night."

Shawn chuckled and a glint of mischief came into his eyes as well. He raised his glass, "To one helluva fucked up night …"

Tony smiled but shook his head. "No," he said, motioning to Sandra for a refill. "This one last time … let's toast to us."

Their eyes met and if they knew nothing else in the world, they knew that Tony was right. This was the last time.

Two hours, two dozen cigarettes, and too many drinks to count later, Shawn and Tony were both pretty far gone. The crowd at the bar had grown and there was music playing now. When a mellow song met his ears, Tony finished laughing at something Shawn had said and glanced wistfully at the couples on the floor. Before he could stop them, or even allow his brains to process them, the words came tumbling out of his mouth: "Dance with me, love." He didn't regret them like he knew he should have.

Shawn smiled, and the smile wasn't embarrassed or mischievous like they'd been earlier in the evening. Instead, his smile was warmed with liquor and sweetened with love. He nodded and took Tony's hand.

There was a moment when they reached the dance floor where they both just stood; unsure who would be bold enough to make the first move. But then it came natural. Like riding a bike – they had never quite forgotten the steps.

When the two returned to Shawn's apartment an hour later, there wasn't much for either to say. They had run out of words, and so instead of trying to find a conversation, they went inside in silence. Shawn let Tony follow him into the bedroom. It was at this point that Tony began to feel a little apprehensive, even with all the alcohol coursing through him. Shawn's silence scared him more than anything else could have - especially since the boy's face was drawn and serious. For a moment, Shawn acted as if Tony weren't even there. He sat down on his bed with a heavy sigh, listening to the mattress whine beneath him. He reached his hands behind his head and pulled his shirt off with a grunt. Then he looked up to where Tony was standing against the wall, staring at him.

Tony swallowed hard, and Shawn wondered what he was thinking. Had Tony changed his mind? Did he want to go home? Did the way Shawn lived now disgust him? Impossible questions to answer, yet they stung Shawn's heart all the same.

Tony tried to smile. He tried to act like this were no big deal – how many times had he been with Shawn before? Hundreds, if not more. But this time - this time it _was_ a big deal. This was their last time. And not like their _last_ last time – when Tony didn't know it was their last time. On the living room floor with the curtains drawn while dinner burned on the stove…

This time Tony would do everything right, and say everything right, and be all those things he hadn't been before. And his damned brain followed this thought process with: _And maybe this time Shawn won't leave_. But he immediately rebuked himself for it. Shawn had already left – Shawn was gone. Yet was here now, like an angel of mercy offering Tony one more night.

Tony slowly removed his own shirt and crossed the room to sit beside Shawn on the bed.

Shawn watched carefully. He could remember the exact feeling of his own palms across Tony's chest now, and longed to get that feeling again. But he restrained himself and tried to be content merely taking in the sight of Tony instead.

They sat side by side for several moments until Shawn couldn't bear the feeling of his fingers tingling in want of Tony's touch any longer and he wrapped his hand around his partner's. Neither said a word, but Tony glanced at Shawn and Shawn held his gaze.

For a long moment, Tony thought about just going home. He didn't know if toying with Shawn's emotions this way was the right thing to do. Because he had meant it when he said he wasn't coming back …

But in the same token, he didn't know any more if he _could_ just leave. He was craving Shawn more than he ever had before, and the feeling was overwhelming. Finally he opened his mouth to speak, but only got out "Shawn, I-" before Shawn's mouth was covering his own.

The kiss was deep and needy. It took Tony several minutes to recover from the rush that came with it. Like the greatest high he'd ever experienced - he felt pins and needles all the way down to his toes, there was a humming in his ears, and when he closed his eyes, he was dizzy enough that he swore he must have been floating upside down, suspended only by Shawn's lips on his. When the feeling faded enough to grant him use of his limbs again, he entwined his arms around Shawn's neck and let his fingers tangle in Shawn's hair, occasionally bringing them to the boy's face where he traced over Shawn's cheeks, eyes, and ears. Shawn meanwhile was running his hands up and down Tony's sides, the boys' fevered skin nearly burning him.

They stayed that way for several minutes, eyes closed, until Shawn finally clamped his hands around Tony's upper arms and pulled the boy down on top of him. Tony removed his hands from Shawn's hair and helped Shawn guide him down. Shawn lay on his back and Tony placed his palms flat against his chest, still with their lips locked together.

A low moan came from Shawn, startling Tony a little. It had been so long...

They were together for hours that way, each trying to give the other so much that perhaps they hadn't given before. It was the love-making of the desperate, of the damned. They were trying to compensate for everything they knew they must have been lacking before.

Finally, near dawn, Tony gasped out Shawn's name and they both fell back into a sea of bed sheets. Tony rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat from his brow. Shawn scooted closer to him, lying on his stomach and gazing intently at his ex-lover. Tony looked content enough, but not as ecstatic as Shawn himself was feeling.

Tony was thinking about the worst thing possible: the future. He was realizing that he would never get this feeling again. He'd been planning on leaving immediately after he and Shawn had said and done everything they needed to, but now he couldn't tear himself away. Quietly he turned his head and pecked Shawn on the lips.

Shawn smiled warmly and took Tony's hand. But hand holding wasn't enough for Tony. Instead, he pulled Shawn as close as he could and put Shawn's arms around himself. Tony then curled up and pressed his cheek against Shawn's chest, absorbed in the feeling of Shawn's thin arms clamped tightly around him. Shawn thought he might never be able to let Tony go – the feeling of holding the boy again was so wonderful.

Tony closed his eyes – enveloped in Shawn, exposed and vulnerable yet completely warm and safe – he couldn't believe his luck. He'd dreamt of this for three years. He had never gotten over Shawn's walking away. He felt Shawn kiss his hair and he sighed.

"You stayin'?" Shawn whispered, trying not to let on to how much he prayed for a yes.

Tony nodded against the other boy, knowing he wouldn't be able to leave. There was just no way.

So Shawn kissed Tony once more, as a reassurance that he'd be back, and crossed to the other side of the room. He closed the blinds so the sun wouldn't wake them come morning, and he gathered an extra blanket from the foot of his bed. Tony watched Shawn's pale form move about in the moonlight and realized he recognized the boy's each and every gesture.

Shawn came back and laid the blanket over Tony's naked body. He perched himself on the edge of the bed, well aware that Tony was near passed out from alcohol and exhaustion. He smiled, and Tony tried to smile back, but all that came out was a sort of tired half-smirk. Shawn laughed out loud and reached down to brush away some of Tony's hair from his eyes. Shawn remembered how Tony had never seemed to realize how beautiful he really was, especially when he slept. Yet Shawn had never been able to tell him this outright, and so to this day he kept the secret of his adoration of Tony's beauty to himself.

Shawn was bound and determined not to sleep. Instead, he would stay up and watch Tony. There were only a few short hours left before Tony would walk out of his life forever. So he settled himself beside the boy, pressing up against him under the blankets. He concentrated on inhaling Tony's scent, and feeling Tony's skin, and memorizing Tony's even breathing. He knew nothing in the world could give him this kind of happiness, and he could not let it go without making sure he would remember each and every detail until his dying day.

Tony rolled over suddenly and peered straight into Shawn's eyes. "I do love you," he said so quietly it was hardly a whisper. "I loved you since we were six, and I'll go on loving you until I'm sixty."

Shawn had to close his eyes to stop the emotion he feared would be manifesting itself there in tears. To this day he had never let Tony see him cry. "I love you too," he said, "…I never stopped lovin' you."

Tony thought a moment about asking why Shawn had left, then, but decided he wouldn't spoil the moment. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into Shawn's chest, pulling the blankets up to his chin. He fell asleep that way, and an hour or two later, Shawn lay awake, holding on to Tony and fearing the goodbye he knew was in the near future.

Stroking his thumb along Tony's shoulder blade, he whispered to himself, "How did I evah let ya go?" He spent the rest of the early morning hours cursing himself for his stupidity and at the same time, knowing Tony was too good for him. He was lucky he'd even had those years of happiness with the boy, when he didn't deserve them.

The goodbye the next morning was rushed. Neither wanted to spoil the perfection that had been the night before, so when Tony opened his eyes, still wrapped up in Shawn's arms, he coughed to let the other boy know he was awake.

Reluctantly, Shawn released him, and they didn't open the curtains until they were both fully clothed again and Tony had ran a comb through his hair. Shawn watched him move about with a heavy heart. When they finally made it to the doorway, Shawn took Tony's hand. In a very un-Shawn-like manner he looked at his feet self-consciously, and said "I'll always be here, ya know … if ya change ya mind."

Tony could only nod. He squeezed Shawn's hand once and turned to leave, car keys in hand. And then there was a pain in his chest he almost couldn't bear, as from behind him, he heard Shawn whisper, "I'll always love you too, Tony. Don't forget."

Driving home, Tony tried to decide what Shawn had been referring to with his comment of "Don't forget." Most obviously, it was a reference to his previous statement, that he would always love Tony. But Tony knew Shawn well enough to know that the boy wouldn't make it that clear. More likely, Shawn had been asking Tony to never forget _him_…

Tony laughed bitterly to himself. As if he could ever forget Shawn.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Boo.**

_Author's Notes: So here is chapter four - not much to say really. This is a flashback to Shawn and Tony's breakup, just so you kinda get a little more background on them. This might be my least favorite chapter to date, of this story anyway, but what can ya do? So I hope you enjoy, and chapter five is written, it just needs to be proof read and typed up. Deal? Okay, lol, so you guys are fantastic with the reviews, please don't stop. I love feedback more than anything._

Shawn paced the living room moodily. He and Tony were fighting a lot lately – especially about the stupid little things that really don't matter. _Why do you always get to watch what you want on TV? I can do the grocery shopping this week, you don't know how to use coupons! I hate Spaghetti, Tony, why are we having that again for dinner? _Those types of stupid things.

Shawn couldn't even remember the cause of this particular fight they were in the midst of. But Tony had left for work in a temper and Shawn had called the day off work to give himself more moping time. Dangerous thoughts kept threatening to pollute his mind. Thoughts of freedom.

Not to say that Tony was controlling, but Shawn couldn't remember what it was like to be single. Probably because he hadn't been so since he was seven … What would it be like, he wondered, to be able to stay out as late as he wanted, and drink and smoke and brawl as much as he wanted? He wouldn't have to worry about anyone besides himself – and that was a luxury he had never had before. He could have his own bed, his own bathroom, refrigerator, TV… They were certainly thoughts he'd never entertained before - but in light of all the recent fighting, it seemed very tempting. It was new to him, because he'd never been alone before. He and Tony hadn't even had to officially ask each other out once they had matured to an age suitable for "dating".

As the older one, Shawn was the one to start having feelings for Tony first. One night lying together in the orphanage, Shawn recalled how scared and confused he'd been when Tony had rolled over and brushed Shawn with his leg in a way that he never had before. Tony was completely innocent to the action, or its effect, but Shawn experienced a reaction in his body quite new to him. He immediately rolled over to hide it from Tony – incredibly ashamed of his body's odd behavior. It was a few more weeks of the same odd sensation for Shawn before he finally did something about it. He was sleeping in Tony's bunk again – not only was the bed nearly too small for them now, but they also had to be much more discrete with their nightly meetings - when Tony rolled over to face Shawn, and Shawn kissed him. Not like the innocent kisses of their childhood – on the cheek or the top of the head – this kiss was full on the mouth, and Tony was a little apprehensive at first. But like all other things, he trusted Shawn not to mislead him in any way. From that night on, the boys were just a little different. They began to explore more and more of each other late at night in Tony's bunk, discovering all types of new feelings. By the time Shawn was sixteen, and Tony fifteen, they considered themselves to be dating. They'd seen some of the other boys sneak out at night to go visit young ladies they called their "girlfriends", and Tony and Shawn began to understand the meaning of the word "relationship." It was one night when Tony rolled over, and he asked Shawn, "Are we boyfriends?" Shawn had thought about it for a minute, then nodded. Then Tony asked the other, more important question on his mind. "Am I ya only boyfriend?" Shawn had smiled, kissed Tony, and told the boy that he would always be Shawn's only boyfriend...

And up until this point, that was true. Shawn had never so much as touched anyone else. He began to wonder if you could be with someone long enough that they eventually became so predictable that you needed to let them go. Perhaps he and Tony had reached that point? They could hardly even fight anymore – Shawn knew every word that would come out of Tony's mouth before he said it. And Tony knew Shawn even better than that.

So when Tony came home from work, looking exhausted, Shawn had a whole slew of things he needed to say. Tony dropped his keys on the counter and poured himself a drink. He sat down at the kitchen table across from Shawn, flipping through a newspaper he'd picked up on the way home. Neither one was speaking. Shawn pulled out a cigarette and lit up, blowing smoke off to one side. They had both adapted well out of the orphanage – gone from lost street kids to street-smart adults, competent in their own little way of life.

Shawn took a deep breath, preparing mentally for what he needed to say.

"I think I should move out."

Tony didn't lower his paper immediately, unwilling to show Shawn his shocked face. He had never really thought he'd ever hear those words from his partner. Theirs wasn't like other relationships, where one worried about the other person leaving – Tony and Shawn had just always been together and they always would be. It was a give-in. So Tony swallowed hard and asked, "Is this about this mornin'?"

"No," Shawn said irritably, and only then did Tony lower his paper. Suddenly everything about that morning's small fight was forgotten in light of this new bigger problem.

"Well, what then?" Tony asked apprehensively. He couldn't imagine his life without Shawn's hand to hold.

Shawn sighed and crushed out his cigarette. "I dunno, doncha think it's time fah a change?"

Tony shrugged, "I didn't think so, but I coulda been wrong …"

Shawn stood up and paced to the window – the sun had only just set, leaving little hints of twilight in the sky. "We been datin' since we was, what, six? Ain't ya evah wondered what it'd be like tah be with somebody else – or not with anybody at all?"

Tony frowned deeply. He never had. Suddenly gripped by terror at the thought of losing Shawn, Tony approached his partner at the window. "Shawn," he said, taking the boy's hand, "If I done somethin' wrong, just tell me …"

Shawn pulled his hand away and leaned defensively against the sink. "Ya ain't done nothin' wrong," he protested. "I just, I dunno, I nevah been on me own. Everythin' I've ever been's been connected tah you."

Tony shrugged, still feeling the burn over Shawn pulling his hand away. "I kinda always liked that we had that," he said. "I never felt like I was alone, ya know?" Tony paused, then looked up at Shawn's face, "But you want that? To be alone?"

Shawn groaned, "Don't do dat, Tony. Dis ain't nothin' about what you done wrong. Dis is about me – an' I'm different then you. I know you'd be happy tah stay heah an' woik da same job fah da rest a' ya life. You could spend the next fifty years in dis same apartment, cookin' me dinnah an'-"

"No Shawn," Tony interrupted furiously. "I hate dis apartment. Da only thing that makes it worth it is havin' you here."

Shawn glared out the window, but said nothing so Tony continued. "An' I hate my job – I do what I hafta so we don't get evicted from this dump. I hate dis town an' everythin' in it. But ya right, I could live here fah da rest a my life. Know why? 'Cause ya heah with me. Da only thing good in my life is gettin' tah come home an' make ya dinnah an' havin' you smilin' across the table at me. It's cause I love you, an' I know you love me. So what the hell are ya talkin' about leavin' for?"

Shawn gave Tony a piercing gaze. "I need space, Tony," he said fiercely.

Tony had to stop in his tracks to comprehend what his partner was saying. Shawn was actually serious. He couldn't stop the thoughts flying through his head – thoughts of all his shortcomings that might have driven Shawn to this end. "I gotta sit down," he said heavily, leaving Shawn for the kitchen table.

Shawn joined him. He reached for his cigarettes, but changed his mind and tried to take Tony's hand instead. This time it was Tony who pulled away. "Don't," he said dangerously. "You're leavin' – don't touch me."

Shawn recoiled, but the hurt and anger in Tony's eyes would not subside. "Tony," Shawn tried, "Dis don't mean I don't love you, 'cause I do. I'm restless, I need time tah myself right now. It don't mean I regret anythin' we had, huh?"

Tony was shaking his head quickly back and forth, rejecting every one of Shawn's words. "Shut up," he mumbled, "Just shut up."

Shawn was frustrated by Tony's inability to understand how he felt – but Tony was terrified of the prospect of a life without his other half...

Tony and Shawn both went to bed angry that night. Tony simply couldn't understand the reason for Shawn wanting to leave so suddenly. They had always just understood that they would be together forever. Now Tony was kicking himself for taking that fact for granted. Perhaps Shawn had never really assumed this as Tony had. After all, they'd never said anything about it out loud. There were no promises, no rings, nothing. But that was how their relationship had always been. They didn't say – they just did. If anything, Tony was the only one of the two who would try to express his feelings at all. An occasional "I love you," seemed to get the job done just fine. But now, Shawn was leaving. Tony had been so goddamned foolish allowing his entire life to center around Shawn. Because now that he was leaving, everything inside Tony would be ripped out by force, leaving only half of what Tony had been before. He didn't know how to be without Shawn.

Shawn was sleeping on the couch in the living room that night, missing Tony already. His sheets seemed unnaturally cold without a second body there to warm them. But Shawn would not give in – he needed to do this for himself. It would tear him apart to leave Tony – the boy he had spent his entire life protecting and loving. But then, Tony was not a scared little boy anymore. He had grown into quite a successful young man – at least as successful as his past would allow him to be. About a year after leaving the orphanage, he'd discovered that he had a rather quick tongue, and this had gained him many friends other than Shawn. _But he always came back tah me at da end a' the day_, Shawn reflected sadly. Even now, Tony clung to Shawn like they were still seven. Shawn shook his head furiously – he couldn't be thinking this way. He'd never be able to leave.

Then a flash of lightning lit the sky and Shawn cringed. The rain started coming down hard and Shawn saw the light in the bedroom flip on. Tony wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, that much was sure. Shawn could just picture Tony now. His partner would be sitting up in bed after having slammed the blinds down, a deck of cards out on the matress. Tony would be playing solitaire moodily, every once in a while glancing toward the window and the offending storm. Shawn had to wrap himself tight in his blanket and sit on his hands to stop himself from running to the bedroom to hold Tony. He knew Tony would be far too stubborn to come out to the living room, and so the night would progress, both of them wide awake and miserable.

When the sun rose, it found the two lovers worse than ever. Tony could not believe that Shawn hadn't come to him last night, and he was so hurt he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive. Shawn was just silent, even while Tony kept shooting him angry looks over morning coffee.

"I'm stayin' home tah pack my stuff," Shawn said wearily, and Tony said nothing. Instead, he took up his messenger bag, slung it over his shoulder, and slammed the door on his way out. As soon as the door was closed, he collapsed in dry sobs on the stairs. Shawn was really going …

Inside the apartment, Shawn flew out of his chair in frustration. The chair clattered to the tile and Shawn, listening to Tony's sobs out in the hall, put his fist through the drywall…

When Tony came home, he was four hours late. Shawn could tell immediately that he'd been drinking – his eyes were unfocused and he didn't even say a word to Shawn as he walked right past on his way to the bedroom.

"Tony," Shawn called from amidst a small pile of boxes in the living room, "Where are you going?"

"To bed," Tony called miserably, "Aren't you comin'?"

Shawn sighed. He poked his head into the bedroom where Tony was undressing and pulling down the bed sheets, ready to get in. "Tony …" Shawn said wearily, "I'm leavin' now. I ain't comin' tah bed."

Tony's eyes began streaming then, and Shawn could see that he was close to cracking. "Shut up, Shawn! Get in da fuckin' bed, okay?"

Shawn shook his head, "Tony, I just wanted tah say bye…"

Tony picked up a mug off the bedside table and whipped it against the wall, inches from where Shawn was standing in the doorframe. "You ain't leavin'! God damnit, Shawn …"

Shawn tried to take Tony's hands cautiously. "Tony …"

"No!" Tony cried, finally meeting Shawn's eyes and glaring. "I dunno why ya leavin', but if you go, ya nevah gonna see me again. Don't you get it? Ya can't leave now, we'll be ovah. I'll nevah see you again-"

"Tony!" Shawn yelled, "Calm down. Dat ain't true. Who knows what'll happen? I just gotta leave now."

Tony pulled his knees to his chest. "Dis ain't right. We're supposed tah be tahgethah, like always …"

Shawn closed his eyes tight and leaned to kiss Tony on the forehead lightly. "Bye Tony …"

Tony watched as Shawn began carting his luggage out of their apartment and into a taxi downstairs. As Shawn took up the last of the boxes, Tony yelled from the bedroom where he was curled up on the floor, drowning in his own tears. "I love you, Shawn!"

But there was no response. Just the harsh closing of the front door, and then a screaming silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Disney is still refusing to let me have Spot and Race.**

_Author's notes: The wedding, and yes, if you're wondering, I do love seeing our boys miserable. I have a surprise though, if you keep an eye out for this story, because it is not quite over yet. This chapter has a little bit of a rushed feeling, I hope you catch that, because I tried to get everything in it I wanted and still make it a little uncomfortable to read. I wanted to create a feeling of something being pulled away, ya know? Just out of reach in a way. I dunno if I succeeded, or if I'm just crazy lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, it certainly wouldn't hurt to tell me so._

"Are you with the bride's party or the groom's?" a man asked.

Shawn seemed to snap out of his trace then. "Huh?"

The man rolled his eyes. He was dressed in an impeccably pressed suit and was clearly not accustomed to dealing with anyone below his own high station. "The bride or the groom, sir. _Who do you know_?" He was obviously mocking now.

Shawn resisted the urge to punch him out. "The groom," he said miserably, "Ima good friend a' da groom's."

The man nodded and led Shawn into the chapel. Shawn noticed he was one of the first to arrive and protested when the man tried to lead him to a seat up front. "Uh," he interrupted, "No, sorry, can I jus' sit in back?"

Another eye roll, and another thought on Shawn's part about how good the host would look with a broken nose. But he resisted, as he was trying to be on his best behavior. The man led him to the very last pew and raised his eyebrows at Shawn.

"'S good, thanks," Shawn mumbled, and the man left.

Not wanting to call attention to himself, Shawn bent his knees slightly and crossed himself before entering the pew, as he had so often seen Tony do all those holidays his partner had dragged them to church. Shawn let the memories attack him with their bitterness: _Christmas Eve, midnight mass, Shawn would have just rather slept... Easter morning, amidst an enormous crowd of Catholics, when Shawn wouldn't even have known it was Easter if Tony hadn't told him ..._

Over the next half hour, Shawn watched the bride's family and friends fill her half of the church. Tony's side, however, remained relatively empty. After all, the boy had almost no family. A few estranged cousins sat wearily and Shawn recognized a few of Tony's coworkers, though he couldn't name them if he tried.

An organ began playing from up in the choir loft. Everyone turned to watch the bridesmaids and groomsmen file down the aisle. Followed by Tony. He looked incredible, Shawn thought. His tux – bought by Susan's father no doubt, as it was grossly out of Tony's budget – was tailored to fit him perfectly. He wore a red flower on his lapel. His hair was slicked back from his face, which was just a little flushed, and his eyes were wide and bright. Shawn didn't know what he'd expected. For Tony to look as tired as Shawn himself felt, or to see traces of tears down his face. But instead he just looked amazing. A little nervous, perhaps, but that was expected, wasn't it?

Tony didn't look at Shawn as he passed, just followed up and stood by the side of the alter. Shawn recognized Tony's friend Michael – a sweet faced Mulatto boy – as Tony's best man. The bridesmaids and the maid of honor were all clad in strapless blue, and Shawn decided it wasn't a bad looking wedding party at all. Not that he'd ever been to a wedding before. Ironic that the first he would attend would be that of the only person he ever loved.

There was quite a bit of ado as the prelude to the actual ceremony. Some songs were sung, a few verses read. Tony spent the time looking either towards the choir loft or his feet, coughing occasionally. Finally a march began to play and Shawn spun around to see the bride coming down the aisle. She was on the arm of a man with gray hair who must have been her father. She was a beautiful bride, Shawn realized grudgingly. She had golden hair that was all intricately knotted up behind her head and smokey eyes that never left Tony. Her dress was a brilliant white that complemented her soft skin. She had a string of pearls around her neck, matching the ones dangling from her ears. She had a little button nose and bright round lips. Shawn had to look away from her as the thought of Tony kissing those lips came to him.

Turning around, however, when everyone else in the church was looking back, was not a smart idea. Everyone's eyes were immediately drawn to the stranger who was facing the wrong way. Including Tony's. Shawn watched as all the color drained from Tony's face, and for a moment, he feared Tony might faint. Instead, the boy reached out a head to steady himself against the alter.

Tony felt like time had stopped. And yet no one else in the chapel seemed to notice. They were all still sitting, watching the woman he was about to devote his life to, walking slowly forward on the arm of her father – the same warm man who had choked up when Tony and Susan had announced their engagement.

Shawn sat wondering if it was really a good idea he'd come, but knowing he wouldn't have been able to stay away. It was his own sick sort of closure. Shawn and Tony watched each other a bit longer while everyone else's eyes were focused on the bride. Finally, reluctantly, Shawn set his eyes back to Susan. Tony did as well and felt he might be sick. The girl was glowing – perhaps she'd dreamt of this day since her happy childhood, a beautiful little church with a beautiful white dress. And Tony felt horribly guilty. He didn't want to hurt her. But try as he might, he simply could not love her as he'd loved Shawn. As he still did love Shawn.

Tony loved Susan, mostly he thought, because she'd loved him. She had pulled him out of his depression after Shawn left, and Tony would be eternally grateful to her. She had been an amazingly supportive friend, and although Tony hadn't wanted it to become a romance, it had just been too easy, and things slipped out of his control. He wanted Susan to be happy because she was kind and beautiful and deserved happiness more than most people. And maybe if Tony'd never met Shawn, her love for him might have been enough. But the love Tony felt for Shawn was a much deeper love. It was the "I want to be with you every day and every night" love. The "I think you're adorable when you're angry, and I want to kiss you anyway" love. And most of all the "I'd die for you … or without you" love.

Tony sighed and realized the priest was asking him to kneel.

The ceremony went on without fault, but Shawn thought he must have been going crazy. He couldn't seem to hear sentences, only little words and phrases floating in and out of his tortured mind. _"Do you take Susan Bailey?" … "Anthony Higgins" … "For better or worse" … "To have and to hold" … "Lawfully wedded husband" … "Till death to you part" …_

"I do."

_That's it_, Shawn thought helplessly, coming back to himself just in time to watch Susan slip a ring on the finger of the man who should belong to him. _Game ovah._

"You may kiss the bride."

Tony reached down with a shaking hand and lifted Susan's veil. Shawn felt his whole body convulse and slammed his eyes shut, pulled his knees to his chest, and jammed his fingers in his ears, so he wouldn't have to see Tony kiss his new bride or hear the applause that followed. When he opened his eyes again, the new couple was walking down the aisle and out of the church. Tony met Shawn's eyes briefly, and Shawn could tell he was using his eyes to scold Shawn for coming. But there was something else there, as well, something Shawn couldn't discern.

Shawn sat up in his chair, not knowing what he planned to do. Perhaps push Susan away, grab Tony's hand and they would run far away from the church. Before Tony's eyes left Shawn's, they were desperate and pleading, begging for something that was impossible. Then the couple was out the door and Shawn darted out of his pew to follow with the rest of the congregation.

_No_, he was sobbing in his own head, th_is can't be over …_

Too many people were getting in his way. Shawn was elbowing them out of his path as out in the street he could see Tony and Susan getting in a limo. Knocking over the holy water in his haste, Shawn made his way through the smiling, waving crowd to the sidewalk. He was starting to attract some pretty dirty looks. Then the limo drove away and Shawn stood in the middle of the street, staring after it.

Tony glanced in the rearview mirror. Susan was watching him anxiously, but he didn't care. He let tears form in his eyes, but refused to let them fall. Shawn was there, standing alone. Tony turned away from Susan, needing a moment to himself before he could resume his happy façade. He wanted to be twelve again. He wanted it to be storming. He wanted Shawn to be holding his hand on the top bunk. He wanted those arms around him. And he wanted those lips to kiss him, only Shawn's. But it was too late now.

"Excuse me, sir," the host was not standing beside Shawn, "I do hope you plan to apologize as well as clean up the mess you've made."

Shawn turned his face to the host. The poor man had only a few seconds to appraise the raw misery and rage there before Shawn drew back his fist and punched him directly in the jaw. There were a few screams, and the host fell to the concrete – his nice suit not quite so nice anymore, splattered with blood.

But Shawn just walked away. He laughed ironically to himself – walking away seemed to be something he'd mastered by now.

He walked all the way to the highway. Night had fallen by now. He left his truck, his dog, his apartment, everything. He hitch-hiked all the way out of town that night. He would start over somewhere. He had to. And he had every intention, once he got where he was going, of drinking himself into a state where his soggy brain would not be able to torment him with thoughts of Tony.

Yet he knew that although with drink his brain might be able to black out the memories of Tony, he heart would never be quite as strong.


	6. All My Newsies

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything. 'Cept Susan, she's all mine lol.**

_Author's Note: So this is something quite new for me. I have never written an "alternate ending" before. bum bum bum. However, my dear friend Rustie was so distraught when she discovered that Tony was actually going to go through with the wedding that I decided I could not let it end like that. Also, the night I posted that last chapter, I was listening to "Lips of an Angel" on the radio, and when it ended the DJ said "Ya know how they have sequels to movies? Well, I wanna hear the sequel to that song. 'Cause you know he's gonna kick the girl in the next room to the curb and get back with his ex. You know it!" True story, lol, so I decided it had to be fate. So here indeed is, not the sequel, but the alternate ending, to Lips of an Angel, dedicated to Rustie. I do hope she's happy with her very own episode of "All My Newsies" lol. Oh, one last thing, this chapter begins the same as the last, but you only have to deal with that for a few short paragraphs. And please review - without reviews I die. It's true._

"Are you with the bride's party or the groom's?" a man asked.

Shawn seemed to snap out of his trace then. "Huh?"

The man rolled his eyes. He was dressed in an impeccably pressed suit and was clearly not accustomed to dealing with anyone below his own high station. "The bride or the groom, sir. _Who do you know_?" He was obviously mocking now.

Shawn resisted the urge to punch him out. "The groom," he said miserably, "Ima good friend a' da groom's."

The man nodded and led Shawn into the chapel. Shawn noticed he was one of the first to arrive and protested when the man tried to lead him to a seat up front. "Uh," he interrupted, "No, sorry, can I jus' sit in back?"

Another eye roll, and another thought on Shawn's part about how good the host would look with a broken nose. But he resisted, as he was trying to be on his best behavior. The man led him to the very last pew and raised his eyebrows at Shawn.

"'S good, thanks," Shawn mumbled, and the man left.

Not wanting to call attention to himself, Shawn bent his knees slightly and crossed himself before entering the pew, as he had so often seen Tony do all those holidays his partner had dragged them to church. Shawn let the memories attack him with their bitterness: _Christmas Eve, midnight mass, Shawn would have just rather slept. Easter morning, amidst an enormous crowd of Catholics, when Shawn wouldn't even have known it was Easter if Tony hadn't told him … _

Over the next half hour, Shawn watched the bride's family and friends fill her half of the church. Tony's side, however, remained relatively empty. After all, the boy had almost no family. A few estranged cousins sat wearily and Shawn recognized a few of Tony's coworkers, though he couldn't name them if he tried.

An organ began playing a prelude, but was stopped mid-note. Shawn looked around for the source of the disturbance but could find none. Just then a sweet-faced Mulatto boy he recognized as a friend of Tony's named Michael, hurried up towards the alter. The priest bent down to hear what he had to say, and his face became grave. Shawn was an expert at reading faces – it was one of the few things he prided himself on. So he knew immediately that something was irrevocably wrong. The priest followed Michael out of the chapel without a word to the congregation. Many people were looking around now, anxious looks on their faces.

Shawn was the first one out of his seat, following Michael. When he reached him, the boy was explaining something to the priest using his hands. Shawn glanced towards the corner, and sitting all by herself was the bride, slumped against the back of her chair. Not crying, but not looking all too happy either.

When Michael had finished speaking to the priest, Shawn approached him.

"Hey," he said lowly, "What's goin' on?"

Michael looked him over once and recognized him. Back before Susan and Tony had gotten together, Michael recognized the boy Tony had spent his every waking moment with. "What are you doing here?" Michael asked. His tone wasn't angry, as Shawn had expected, but more shocked.

Shawn shook his head, as if he didn't have time for that sort of stupid question. "Where's Tony?" he asked quickly.

Michael shrugged. "No idea. But he sure as hell isn't here."

Shawn stood for a moment, letting the information sink in. Then he nodded with a hasty "Thanks," and turned towards the door to leave. But someone got in his way. That someone, he had deduced by this point, was Susan.

"Are you Shawn?" she asked, and her smokey gray eyes were pained.

Shawn took a moment to assess how beautiful she really was, then nodded.

"I'm Susan," she said lamely, and Shawn just nodded again. Then she asked something Shawn had never been expecting, not in a million years. "Do you love him?"

Shawn opened his mouth to speak – his first thought being to protest. But he decided the truth would be best. Somehow Susan knew about him and Tony now. Shawn wasn't sure how she'd found out, but she certainly knew. He looked at his shoes and mumbled, "More den anythin'."

Susan nodded, some internal conflict quieted. She pulled a piece of notebook paper from a purse left on her chair. "Read this," she instructed.

Shawn took the paper with a shaking hand and looked it over. It was in Tony's hand, and it was addressed to his bride:

_Dearest Susan,_

_I want you to know, first and foremost, how much it pains me to write this. Because I do love you. I don't know where I'd be now if it weren't for you. But to marry you would be terribly unfair of me. I love someone else – I loved him before I met you, and three years later I still love him. His name is Shawn, and I never told you about him before. But if I know him as well as I think I do, he's probably somewhere at the church right now, not knowing yet that there will be no wedding… _

_My point is, I can't marry you because I can't give you what you deserve – and that's someone who will love you with all their heart and give you everything you've ever wanted. Please understand that I just can't be that person. I've already promised that part of me to someone else. You're a wonderful woman, Susan, so I know you'll be able to find someone much better than me. _

_I hope you can forgive me, eventually, even though what I've done is unforgivable. I did love you, and I will always love you. But I am in love with Shawn, and I can't ruin both my life and yours by going through with this marriage. _

_I'm not sorry for leaving, but I am sorry for hurting you._

_I beg you to try and understand,_

_Tony _

It was just like Tony to write something so direct and well thought out in a situation where anyone else would have been too worked up to even form words. Shawn read the note over twice before looking back up at Susan. She was studying his face. Shawn wasn't sure if she was going to cry or punch him. He knew he deserved the latter. But instead, the corner of her little mouth twisted into a pained smirk, and with tears in her eyes she said, "I thought you'd be taller."

Shawn didn't want to smile, but he did. "Sorry tah disappoint."

They stood chuckling miserably for a moment, then the mirth left Susan's face altogether. She looked into the chapel where her family and friends were all turning their heads and looking worried. "I don't know what I am going to tell them," she said sadly. "He really couldn't have found a worse time to tell me."

Shawn shrugged and let another small smile plague his features, "Well, ya know, Tony always did have a flair fah the theatric."

Susan turned her eyes back on Shawn, "Did he?" she asked seriously. "I never knew."

Shawn frowned guiltily - he hated that he liked Susan. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"No," she said softly, "I suppose it's for the best. If it's true, what he wrote here, then I'm glad you won."

Shawn shook his head. "It ain't about winnin'," he said. "Dat would make it a competition, an' any competition I was in against you I'd lose. Ya smartah den me, nicer, shoah as hell prettiah …"

Susan laughed, and Shawn continued. "But love ain't nothin' like dat. I don't love Tony cause he's smart or pretty – I didn't even choose tah love him. Just like he didn't choose tah love me – 'cause trust me, I know Tony. An' if choosin' not tah love me meant he wouldn't hafta hoit ya like dis, I'm shoah he'd choose dat. But we didn't get tah choose …"

Susan nodded sadly, "Me neither."

Shawn looked at her and saw all the same pain in her eyes that he had felt when he'd found out Tony was getting married. He put his hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry, Susan …Dat we, ya know, both hafta love da same person."

Susan shook her head. "Not me," she said, "I'm not sorry for loving him. I'm just sorry he didn't think he could tell me sooner that he didn't love me."

Shawn protested, "But he does love ya-"

"Not like he loves you."

This, Shawn could not argue with. The love he and Tony shared was something so powerful, Shawn couldn't even understand it most times.

"Well go on," Susan said then, and Shawn looked at her questioningly. Susan chuckled, "Go find him."

Shawn looked towards the door. But he looked back at Susan. Without thinking he took her by the hands and kissed her cheek quickly. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear. And Susan nodded.

"Hey Shawn," she called before he could leave.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad it's you … I don't know if that sounds strange. But, I can see you love him, and I do care a lot about him, so be careful okay? Don't hurt him, just …" then she smiled at her own inability to say what she wanted. "Just be happy, okay? Both of you, be happy."

Shawn smiled, and Susan smiled back at him. And from his expertise with reading faces, Shawn knew that she would be okay. "Oh," Susan said, "Could you tell him, well, that I do forgive him, I guess? He's a good person, and I want him to be happy. If I can't make him happy … you go do it," she chuckled.

Shawn nodded, smiling back at Susan, determined to take her advice to heart. He would find Tony, and he would make the boy happy. He would never hurt Tony again – they had endured three years of hurt. They deserved a little happiness, and Shawn was ready and willing to provide it.

He hurried outside and jumped in his truck, revving the engine as he left the parking lot. He knew exactly where to find Tony. As he floored the gas pedal, Shawn was sure he felt his heart running just as fast.

Shawn parked the truck right at the front door of the bar he and Tony had been at only months ago, and jogged inside. There was Tony, just as he'd expected. The boy was slumped over a mug of beer. The decision must have been a hasty one indeed, because Tony was still in his dress pants and crisp white shirt – his jacket over the back of his chair. His hair was rumpled, as if he'd been running his fingers through it over and over. Shawn crept closer. He sat down across from Tony and laughed, "What are ya, lost?"

Tony looked up from his mug and smiled back, wearily. Shawn noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the way his smile didn't reach them. "I'm so sorry, Shawn," Tony whispered.

Shawn shook his head and reached across the table to take Tony's hand. "Nah," he said. "Still da goil though – leavin' ya own weddin'."

Tony shook his head sadly and gazed down into his drink. Shawn squeezed Tony's hand and told him, "Susan told me tah tell ya she undahstands. She wants ya tah be happy."

"You talked to Susan?" Tony asked, his eyes wide.

"Oh yeah," Shawn nodded, "Said she thought I'd be tallah …"

Tony laughed, and Shawn continued, "Showed me ya note an' everythin'."

"She did?"

"Mhm," Shawn answered, stealing Tony's untouched drink and taking a gulp. "Quite a way with words ya've got: '_I love ya, Suzie, but uh, yeah, not gonna marry ya, sorry, life sucks sometimes'_ …" Shawn mocked.

Tony gave a disapproving look, then asked, "How was she?"

Shawn shrugged. "I think she mighta known," he said honestly. "I mean, she was upset, but she seemed like it weren't no huge sahprise." Shawn remembered the sad, resigned way in which she had handed Tony over.

Tony nodded. He reached and took Shawn's hand, using his thumb to rub little circles into Shawn's skin. "Were you surprised?"

Shawn snorted. "A 'course I was sahprised. I thought … Well, it don't mattah what I thought. 'Cause ya heah now, huh?"

Tony smiled. He hadn't expected Susan to forgive so easily. But as Shawn had said – perhaps she'd known all along. She wasn't stupid. She must've seen the way Tony always looked away when he told her he loved her, or the way he always seemed unsatisfied, and cringed after every kiss. Tony nodded to himself, deciding things could definitely be worse …

Tony leaned over to kiss Shawn on the cheek. "Yeah," he said, "I'm here now."

"C'mon," Shawn said, throwing a few bills on the bar. "Let's get outta heah."

Tony smiled and followed him out the door. Getting into the truck, Tony could only watch Shawn and the smooth way he moved. He sighed, still uncertain about the happiness he knew should be his now. It seemed too easy – the transition from miserable to happily ever after should not have been so simple to make.

But then Shawn lit a cigarette, and rolled the window down. A soft melody played over the radio in the background. Tony took the cigarette from between Shawn's perfect lips. He took a long drag and exhaled out the window. He leaned his head against his seat, sighing gratefully.

Shawn took the cigarette back, "I love ya, Tony, but not _dat_ much. Gimme dat back."

Tony laughed. He reached out his hand to touch Shawn's face in the driver's seat. He pulled gently on Shawn's earlobe, the way he used to when they were living their day to day together, and Tony was overcome by how wonderful his partner really was. He was getting that same feeling now. Shawn leaned into the familiar touch, still with his eyes on the road, but letting a gentle smile touch his lips.

When they pulled up in front of Shawn's apartment, Tony held back for a minute. The feeling of coming home – and coming home for good – was threatening to bring him to his knees.

Shawn was already up the stairs and beckoning him. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked. "C'mon, let's get inside, it looks like it's gonna storm."

Tony looked to the sky – indeed, the clouds were rolling in and the wind was picking up. Tony hurried up to meet Shawn, taking his partner's outstretched hand. Shawn pulled him close, with his arm around Tony's shoulders, and Tony's arm around his waist. They broke apart for only a few seconds, allowing Shawn to fish out his keys. He fumbled around until the door clicked open. He held it for a smiling Tony.

Once inside, Shawn locked the door behind him and ran towards Tony, the dog staring after them curiously. Tony had time enough to choke out, "What in the hell-" before Shawn had picked him up, slung him over his shoulder, and forcibly carried him to the bedroom. Once there, Shawn threw the boy down on the bed and jumped on top of him, straddling his partner there in the middle of a sea of blankets.

"Shawn," Tony smiled, "What are you doin'?"

But Shawn had only to answer with a kiss. Tony leaned into it, his hands scrunching the back of Shawn's shirt into his fists, holding on tight. He could taste only Shawn, he could see only the blackness behind his own eyelids, hear only the ticking of a clock somewhere and his own breathing, smell only the stuffiness of the apartment, and feel only Shawn against him – needing him, loving him.

Shawn pulled away with a huge grin, and Tony was trying to catch his breath. "What was that for?" he asked.

Shawn's grin became the sincerest of smiles. "I missed ya, Tony," he said, and had to look away for a moment or he knew the tears would take over. "An' ya came home …"

Tony pulled Shawn down, laying the boy's head on his chest. "I couldn't stay away," he said honestly, running his fingers through Shawn's soft hair.

Shawn inhaled the scent of Tony and closed his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. "I love you."

Tony held Shawn tight to him, realizing with a start that it was just as good a feeling to be the one comforting as it was to be comforted. "I love you too."

Outside the rain began pounding on the windowpane. Shawn released Tony and they sat up in the bed.

Shawn stood, flipped off the lights. "I'll be right back," he said with a smile, and left for the kitchen. Tony watched the rain fall out the window, hearing the thunder begin to roll. Shawn returned a minute later with a tray. On it was a big steaming bowl of what looked like tomato soup. Shawn smiled, "I remembah it bein' ya favorite," he said, almost with an embarrassed grin.

Tony took the soup eagerly, not having eaten anything all day.

"Not tah mention," Shawn chuckled, "What's bettah on a stormy night den tomato soup?"

Tony summoned Shawn to sit beside him. "Bein' with the man you love, for starters," he said.

Shawn put his arm around Tony's shoulders and they leaned against the headboard in the dark, sipping tomato soup and hearing the rain pour outside. Shawn planted a contented kiss on the side of Tony's head. Tony smiled through a mouthful of soup, and for just a moment, Shawn saw the little boy Tony'd been all those years ago. He laughed out loud and tightened his grip around Tony.

The rain didn't let up all night. It pounded mercilessly on the roof, flooding the lawn and drenching everything in sight. But Tony and Shawn didn't mind. Once the soup was gone, Shawn pulled Tony down under the covers and the two held each other until the sun came up the next morning, the pink light of dawn chasing away the memories of their extended absence from one another.


End file.
